The Aristocrats

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Standing tall on a rocky cliff just behind the warehouses, the lighthouse overlooks the entire island. Sparsely furnished, it doesn't offer much shelter for a student looking for comfort - but climb the spiral stairs to the top, and thanks to a telescope positioned next to the light one would be able to see all the way to the Key at the opposite side of the island.
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Little Boy†
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The Aristocrats

#1

Post by Little Boy† »

[[Jimmy Brennan continues from The Theory of Competition]]

Jimmy Brennan didn't like English Class.

It wasn't the work, and it wasn't the Teacher. No, it was the company. The entire class had bitched and moaned when they'd first gotten Catcher in the Rye. Truth be told, he had no idea what the book was about at the time. Yet he'd gone along with the rest of them, rolling his eyes as the battered paperback was thrown on his desk. The last novel before summer, before their Graduation and Prom and God knew what else. He supposed a lot of people felt some finality about it, a tinge of sadness at the completion of high school, or maybe excitement over bigger and better things to come.

Not him, of course. He wasn't some pussy, and he certainly wasn't going to be the one crying at Graduation. He was detached from all of it. Girls had never bothered to look his way... But the again, they'd all been stuck up little cunts anyways. He'd flown solo through High School, and despite everything he'd dealt with, he was glad. The girls in his year weren't even that pretty for the most part. The ones who were? The Fiametta's and the Langford's?

Yeah. Right. He wouldn't be getting any of that, so why waste the time trying? The cliques were unbearable, filled with pretentious douchebags who'd laugh at the very sight of him. They weren't worth the time, and he wasn't about to spend the last few months of high school walking around in a perpetual rage.

Jimmy flipped the last battered page.
"I didn't know what the hell to say. If you want to know the truth, I don't know what I think about it. I'm sorry I told so many people about it. About all I know is, I sort of miss everybody I told about. Even old Stradlater and Ackley, for instance. I think I even miss that goddam Maurice. It's funny. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."
He sucked in his breath, reading it over once more. Just a week before exams, and then that fucking camping trip.

And then...?

He flipped back a page, re-reading.

What kind of ending is this? What happens to Phoebe?

He wanted to hate the book, but he couldn't really. It wasn't bad. If it was bad, he wouldn't have cared about what happened next. The ending was a cop-out though. He grinded his teeth together.

Bullshit. A waste of fucking time, that's what I'll write on the essay.

He tossed the book to his side, resting his head back up against his locker. It was lunch, and most of the school was out, not in the hallway. There was a row of fast-food chains near to the school, so most cliques congregated outside, enjoying the weather. The hallway was relaxed, silent. There was a group of Niners down a ways eating in a circle, but other then that, he was alone.

Maybe I missed a page.

Jimmy sighed, not bothering to look. He had heard kids in his class talking about the book, especially the "stupid ending". He'd known when he'd reached it. Instead he reached into his knapsack, pulling out a homemade roast beef sandwich. His stomach growled in anticipation.

Fucking useless bullshit. They were right all along. I got strung along all that ways, and it just stopped.

Jimmy hated to be in agreement with his classmates about anything. He'd never brought it up in class how much he'd actually liked Holden, and agreed with what he was saying. Every afternoon it was a never-ending battle between his Teacher and his Classmates, a pointless debate with the sole attacking points being "how gay" Holden was acting. Jimmy'd bit his tongue, but he was pretty positive he knew why Holden was whining constantly.

He's whining because everyone else is a superficial cunt, just like you.

He'd never get to say it. The girls in his class had boyfriends, boyfriends with big fists. An unwelcome combination, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. If he had his way, people would be accountable for their own stupid opinions. No one would run and hide behind someone bigger or stronger, and he might just stand a chance in the world. Jimmy bit down into his sandwich, trying not to feel any bitterer.

Prom had passed and he'd stayed home, playing video games. In a week he'd finish his final High School exams. His parents were proud of him passing, but that didn't count for much in the real world.

He hadn't gotten a single acceptance letter.

And now the book was over and done with, and he'd have to withstand class after class of bitching, the teacher desperately trying to get people to think about the symbolism.

There was no symbolism. Salinger wrote a book about a guy who recognizes how fucking fake everything around him is. And then it ends, fucking over the one kid in the class who actually liked it.

He finished eating without another thought. Class was about to begin and with little else to do he had no reason not to be on time. He walked down the hallway, listening to the silence.

I don't like this.

It was a little thought, but it grew. All throughout high school, he'd wished he was... different. He wished he'd been born strong, or with more guts. He wished he could think of an insult right away, or pass tests in a snap or be the big man on campus. He wished he'd made a sports team. But for whatever reason, he'd never done any of it. Now it was all over, with no repeats. He'd missed his shot, and it was actually getting to him. He couldn't even get apathy right.

The bell rang and suddenly the hall was bustling with people. Hands in his pockets Jimmy leaned against a nearby locker, watching them pass in sullen silence.

And then, without warning, he had turned and was walking the other way. In a few minutes he was out in the parking lot, then the field, and then after a hopped fence he was down the street, on his way home. It was a long walk, but he'd done it before. His absence didn't matter- there was just a few days left. What were they going to do, suspend him? A bitter feeling of anger was forcing its way up through him as he walked along, his head low to the ground.

I didn't get one acceptance letter. Not fucking one.

The class would go on without him, all the bright young minds with their amazing theories and opinions. They'd talk and pretend to think, and then head on out to their friends house and get wasted.

One day, they'd wake up and die with a stupid smile on their face.

I won't care. Not about that. I could get that right.

-------

Jimmy Fucking Brennan sat propped up against the shrapnel covered wall, eating the last scraps of food from Teo's bag. After waking up he'd awkwardly tied a roll of gauze around his bleeding ear before dragging the corpse outside, and chucking it beside the door.

He sat alone in the gloom and the blood, munching hungrily on the bread. He was absolutely starving- removing Teo from the room had taken up a lot more energy then he'd thought. He didn't complain. He knew how close he'd come- his ear and his hand were living proof of that. His breathing was fast and painful now, and he felt near tears.

I beat him. Somehow, I caught a break. And I beat him.

Jimmy stared down at the pool of blood where Teo had once been. He supposed he should clean the mess up.

Later. Save your breath, save your energy. Nearly there. You're going to win this.

There wasn't a doubt left in his muddled mind. God wanted him to win, for whatever reason. He was meant to do this, had been bred specifically for this week. All his hatred and pain was finally coming to a head, and he felt good. There wasn't any pity left in him for any of them, Teo or Samya, or Phillip or JJ or whoever else had died.

Truth be told, he hadn't the foggiest idea who was left alive. He'd lost track back when he'd... when he'd found Rosa.

Kill'em. That's why I've got to kill them.

Did it matter? If they were going to die, what was the use in knowing their names?

He finished his food in silence, before awkwardly making his way to his feet, careful not to flair up any of his many wounds. His ear would take some getting used to- it was strange not hearing right, and it was throwing him off. But despite that, his hand was worse. His shotgun was gone-, which left just Teo's crossbow. It might have been a fair trade if his hand hadn't been fucked to shit. He could reuse crossbow bolts and save ammunition, something that he couldn't use with his shotgun.

Boom.

But with just one hand, it was a bitch to operate the crossbow- near impossible. His first shot had to count; otherwise he'd be in real trouble. He felt slower too, thanks to the gash on his chest. It had stopped bleeding and starting to scab over, or something. But it still hurt and he didn't want to risk cutting it open again.

Stealthy. Gotta be... Stealthy. Okay. Okay, bring it. I can do stealth. There's nothing to it. I can do anything.

Soon, he'd be on the move again. Soon, he'd be back to bringing the pain.

Can't be long now. One more day. Two. Then the world is next. Then I get everything I need.
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Dr. Nic†
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#2

Post by Dr. Nic† »

[Boy #14 - Alex White. Concluded from To Grandmother's House We Go.]

High ground.

That's what he needed. He needed to sit up higher than everyone else, and wait it out. Wait for them to come to him. He needed to find a place to rest, and recover, and plan. He needed a base. Someplace to retreat to when things go bad, and someplace to assault from when he could. He needed high ground, and this was the highest ground that was left. It was out there on the coast, but it was tall, and standing proud out there. And it was going to be his. It would be his base. It would be his throne. This was where Alex was going to rule the world from, and earn his ticket home. This was it.

There wasn't much left to do. Just walk up to the doors, go inside, and start making himself at home. That's all he had to do. But that was easier said than done. His leg ached, and his muscles burned, and everything was sore from the constant grueling pace he held in order to get up to the Lighthouse. Just about the only thing holding him up and keeping him from collapsing in the dirt was the stick he had been leaning on for two days now. Each and every step he took was a chore, and he honestly didn't know if he had it in him to climb up to the Lighthouse, let alone climb the Lighthouse itself. He was in a lighthouse, only once. Up at Two Harbors when he took a road trip with his family. It was almost more like a ladder than a stairway, and he didn't quite like the view. It was beautiful, but being that high up at the edge of a cliff was not his cup of tea.

He wondered if this one was any different.

Up the pathway he started, limping and leaning and straining with every step. If it was hard going back on the road, it was going to be worse climbing the hill. But he was going to keep pushing. He was going to keep fighting. But constantly on the move and without sleep, Alex was exhausted. He was stretched thin. But he wasn't about to give up. He could sleep when he was dead, and he could stop when the game was over. He needed to keep going, keep pushing, and keep fighting if he wanted to win this. And the only way to do that was toughen up. To walk off the pain, and mount up. To be tougher than tough, to be a man of legend, like the Man with No Name or any number of John Wayne characters. He had to live in the shoes of the men from his grandfather's stories, from the western movies he used to love.

He had to be larger than life, and a quick shot to boot.

So he forced himself onward. He pushed himself up the hill. He leaned on the walking stick and took it one step at a time, one after the other. And he didn't give up.

He couldn't give up. Cause he was John Wayne.

He was The Man with No Name.

He was Alex fucking White.

And this was his game.
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#3

Post by Little Boy† »

The mirror was small and dirty, but it was the best he could find in lighthouse ground floor. The room was bare, Jimmy had set his meager possessions upon the lone table before finding a chair and sitting down. His legs were aching again, but that was nothing new. Cradling his left hand in his lap, he reached out and grabbed at the mirror. It was scuffed and smudged, but more or less effective.

What he saw was terrifying. His entire left ear was gone, a bloody flab of skin was now pressed up against his temple with gauze. The bleeding had stopped just when he had had a terrible feeling that he was about to faint-, that was hours ago, but the fear remained strong. He didn't want to die from blood loss, or over exertion, not when he was so close. Black and purple and crimson, his face looked inhuman.

Beauty and the Beast.

Jimmy smiled, and belatedly realized he had a few teeth missing. He wasn't sure when exactly that had occurred. Maybe during his rampage in the store? He'd forgotten just what he'd done after he'd found-

Rosa.

Jimmy put the mirror down, his hand trembling. Slowly he swallowed, the image of Rosa flooding back into his mind. He'd found her cold and dead, her eyes shut. He'd had to dig up the other grave as well. It contained another girl- he wasn't sure who. The discovery had thrown him into a blind rage, anger unlike anything he'd ever felt. He wanted to kill the entire world for what had happened.

I still do.

It was ridiculous. She was just a girl, and if she hadn't died then, when? Right at the end, at his hands? Would it have been any more humane?

Shut up you faggot. Shut up.

She was just another obstacle in his way. If she didn't want to die, she shouldn't have run away from him.

I failed. I scared her, I should never have scared her. She took a chance on me when the entire world wanted me dead. She was beautiful and she made me feel special.

Faggot. Whiny little pussy, fucking-

"SHUT UP!"

He brought his hand down on the mirror, pain rocketing up toward his elbow. A dull thump. Again he pounded down, and he heard the glass crush beneath his fist, biting into his palm. Awkwardly he kicked away from the table, bringing his now bleeding right hand down into his lap with the other.

"Look what you've done-," He murmured, staring at the wounds. "You bastard, why'd you have to think when all you hafta' do is hurt?"

His head was throbbing and he felt sick. He couldn't puke- he hadn't eaten enough to vomit. Awkwardly he began to pick at his left hand, and the piece of shrapnel stuck through it.

Can't move it- red, blood was bright red. You'll get dizzy- But you thought of Rosa. Can't think of Rosa, you bastard. You're a monster, you don't get to think about pretty girls.

Trembling he reached out, gently twisting the shrapnel clockwise. Pins and needles shot up his arm and his fingers twitched.

"Ghhh."

Stop it, you've had your fun. You've got to go. You've got a game to win, you can kill each other later.

Jimmy reached out, brushing the shards of glass to the floor. Taking a deep breath he stood, wobbled slightly, before righting himself. Collecting his bow and zipping his pack, Jimmy turned toward the exit.

Announcements lil' while ago. Gotta be careful now, they're tightening it up. Gotta play smart, gotta stick to the shadows. They'll be out for you now, they know how many you've-

The door opened. Jimmy stopped moving, his mouth dropping open. Jimmy locked eyes for the second time, with Alex White.

Oh.

"You."

Alex looked about as surprised as Jimmy. It was obvious he wasn't expecting anyone to just come strolling out of the lighthouse, completely off-guard. It was a stupid mistake on both their parts, but far more understandable in Alex's case. The boy was massive, with nary a scratch since they'd last seen each other. Jimmy's heart began to beat fast, sweat already starting.

Alex wasn't just unharmed. He was carrying a gun. A big. Nasty.

Gun.

A whimper suddenly escaped Jimmy's lips, his eyes darting to Teo's batted corpse laying just outside the lighthouse door.

You remember the wall, ain't you old friends?

All thought left him then. He was moving, as fast as he could manage, pain be damned. With a cry Jimmy swung the door shut, and leapt to his right in one motion, tumbling to the ground, letting out a tremendous shout.

Wouldn't you know it, the door was louder.
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#4

Post by Dr. Nic† »

Wasn't much further now. Just up this last hill, and he could put in motion his plans to finally put an end to this damn game and go back home. He just had to get up this last fucking hill. But it was a long, arduous climb to the top. And Alex was exhausted. He didn't care about what was at the Lighthouse, or whether or not he wasn't the first one to have the idea of high ground. He was just focused on each and every step he took, making sure that each one wasn't going to be his last.

He was so focused on the ground in front of him, he ignored the Lighthouse. So focused on keeping himself steady, he didn't notice the doorway. Not until it was too late, and someone was staring at him from the open door.

Jimmy fucking Brennan.

Jimmy motherfucking Brennan.

Oh, this was great. This was perfect.

It had to be Jimmy. It just had to be Jimmy. All this searching, all this running, and the person he finally finds is none other than Jimmy fucking Brennan. This was perfect! Alex stared for a moment, watching the fear in Jimmy's eyes. But he left the shotgun at his side. He threw away the stick he'd been leaning on, gathered up the strength he had left and steadied himself. He reached for his belt, and drew the handgun.

"Hello Jimmy!"

Alex took aim and fired. Again and again and again, shooting at the door that Jimmy was just behind. One by one, Alex put holes in the door. He felt the gun kick in his hand every time he squeezed the trigger, and he just kept on squeezing it until he heard it click empty. And even then, he squeezed the trigger again and again.

"Shit, one down."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out another magazine, and released the empty one from the gun. And after he slapped in the new magazine, he pulled back the slide and took aim at the door again. But Jimmy wasn't there. He certainly wasn't outside. He had to be inside. Yes, of course. Just inside there. Alex moved closer. Pistol in one hand. Shillelagh in the other. He limped with every step, and winced with every limp, but he made it up to the door. He could hear him in there. He could hear Jimmy. Moving. Scrambling. Pissing himself in fear.

Cause Alex White was knocking on his door.

He stood there, off to the side of the door, leaned up against the wall. Handgun in one hand, shillelagh in the other. And he knocked on that hole filled door. And called out to Jimmy, somewhere inside. Cause Alex wanted to play with Jimmy again. He wanted to make him suffer. To make him hurt. Jimmy was going to be Alex's first step to being the last monster standing.

The game was only beginning.

"Little pig, little pig. Let me come in!"
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#5

Post by Little Boy† »

Jimmy scrambled toward the wall, the door exploding into fragments behind him. Letting out a yelp of pain he barreled into the table, knocking it over and tumbling to the floor, his crossbow skittering beside him. His breath caught in his chest. His gun had exploded from misuse- he couldn't afford to lose it. With a desperate lunge Jimmy grabbed hold of the weapon, retreating back behind the flipped table.

The sound of gunshots was muffled, especially given his lost ear. He was panting already, his vision blinking in and out. A bolt was ready, but he was sorely under-prepared. The handgun popped again and again, until the door seemed to cave beneath the force. Jimmy sank deeper into his cover, raising up his crossbow in his shaking hands.

This was the definition of bad.

Alex, Alex White. He survived, out of all people, HIM.

Jimmy bit back a curse as he cowered below the table. He couldn't risk a full on assault. Alex would blow him away. He needed to get rid of the gun, even the odds.

A clicking noise, and then muttering. Alex was dry, for the moment. Was now the time to strike? His eyes flashed back down to his injured hand, and he became acutely aware of just how fast his heart was pounding. His rage increased. He couldn't play the same game- not anymore. He'd be shredded meat before long.

No, he'll have something else. He hurt me before- he floored me. One bolt isn't going to stop him, and what if he has more? What will you do then? It's the wall for you Jimmy.

Don't be afraid. Don't you dare be afraid, not after what you've been through.

But it was hard to stop. He could hear Alex approaching the door, readying his weapon again. His heart was pounding, tears of pain starting to streak down his face.

This can't be happening. Not now. I'm supposed to win. Danya told me, I was supposed to win.

Back to the wall, with one shot left, wounded and battered and bloody. He needed to stay strong. Somehow.

"Little pig, little pig. Let me come in!"

Alex's voice was harsh, filled with a playful cruelty he'd heard before, the trademark tone of every sadist. The tables had turned, and Alex had managed to catch him at his weakest. But that wasn't enough for him... it wasn't fun to kill someone outright. He had to spice it up, make things interesting.

He had to make Jimmy afraid. He had to make him cry.

Rule number one, ain't it Jimmy? Before you kill them, you need to break them.

Break this, dickface.

Jimmy opened his mouth and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"NOT BY THE HAIR OF MY CHINNY CHIN CHIN!"

He laughed and twisted around, peaking out from behind his cover. Awkwardly he propped his bow up with his good hand, finger dancing around the trigger.

"You want to play big bad wolf so bad, I'll skin you alive motherfucker! Don't you know who you're dealing with?!"

Jimmy licked his lips, eyeing the broken frame. The second he was through the door- the second he was in his sights...

"You wanna die faggot? Step through that door and underestimate me, just like all the rest!"
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#6

Post by Dr. Nic† »

Jimmy was scared. Jimmy was pissing himself. And Alex was loving it. He wanted Jimmy to piss himself. He wanted Jimmy to cry and beg. He wanted to have a little fun before he put the little fuck out of his misery. He wanted to beat the little bastard. Make him hurt. Make him cry. Just to have a little more fun.

"Oh, but Jimmy, I want to play again."

He could hear Jimmy inside. Somewhere behind the wall. Somewhere off to the side. All Alex had to do was bust down that door and beat the shit out of Jimmy. Beat him, or shoot him. Either one. For a second, Alex couldn't make up his mind. He looked down at his hands and the weapons he held. He could shoot Jimmy, and be done with it right away. Or he could bash in his skull. He could shoot him somewhere that wouldn't kill him right away, or break a couple bones. There were just so many ways that Alex could put the hurt on Jimmy and he couldn't quite make up his mind as to which one he wanted to do.

But one thing was certain. He was going to have a lot of fun with Jimmy.

"Sticks and stones, Jimmy. They'll break your bones. And you're all talk!"

The door wasn't locked, so at least he didn't need to waste a bullet on that. No, Alex had to get down to business. No wasting time. Just get in there and beat some ass. So Alex swung out from behind the wall, and burst through the door, ready to put a hole in Jimmy and break his bones with some sticks and stones.

But Jimmy had something else in mind.
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#7

Post by Little Boy† »

In a mixture of pain and rage Jimmy screamed and brought the crossbow up. Alex didn't have time to register his mistake- the bolt sailed across the room, slamming into his leg.

He fell for it! He fell for it!

Jimmy didn't have time to gloat. He'd goaded Alex into the room, but he hadn't gotten a kill shot. If he was lucky, Alex would want to finish him off up close and personal. That meant he had time. That meant he was once more in his element.

Jimmy stumbled out from behind cover, making a beeline towards a dropped crossbow bolt. With his battered, and now once more, bleeding left hand, he doubted he could work the bow very well. But it was sharp, and if Alex's facial expression was anything to go on getting stuck with one wasn't any fun.

Things were moving too fast now. Alex had burst through the door, and was now dealing with his leg. Jimmy didn't have time to laugh. He needed to finish this quickly, before Alex used his strength to gain the upper hand. His entire body was already throbbing, worse then when JJ had decided to use him as a punching bag, and spots invaded the corner of his vision. Jimmy grabbed the bolt and spun, rushing straight back towards the door and Alex.

The neck, stab him in the neck!

Jimmy raised the crossbow bolt up, a wicked grin appearing on his face.

Alex had fallen for it.

I'm better then you-

He drove the tip of the bolt down, aiming for Alex's exposed neck.
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#8

Post by Dr. Nic† »

Son of a bitch!

That hurt!

That fucking hurt!

The bolt slammed into Alex's leg and he cursed. Fucking Jimmy. Fucking piece of shit Jimmy. Taking cheap shots from the corner. Fucking camper. Oh, god that hurt. Alex wasn't going anywhere fast from now on, that's for sure. First Ray and the damn spear, then the shrapnel from that cunt Andrea, and now Jimmy's fucking cheap shot with a crossbow. It hurt like hell just to stand now, but Alex was not going to go down. Not now. Not when he had Jimmy right there. There was no way in hell Alex was going to go out that easily!

"I'll fucking kill you!"

Jimmy was coming at him with a bolt, but Alex had a gun and a fucking club. He could take Jimmy. He could take him any day, anytime, anywhere. Alex was bigger, stronger, and meaner. He had a big gun and a big stick and he walked tall. And he'll be damned if he let a pussy like Jimmy fucking Brennan get the upper hand over him. He'll be damned if he let some little fuck like Jimmy be the death of him.

Jimmy raised the bolt up... and Alex struck. He swung the shillelagh at Jimmy's arm. He intended to break the damn thing, but Alex would settle just fine with a big welt and a horrid bruise. He swung Jimmy's arm away, and brought the butt of the handgun across Jimmy's smug fucking face.

"I'll fucking teach you."

And he struck Jimmy again.

"To stand up to me."

And again.

"I'll fucking teach you."

Again.

"To think you better!"

And when Alex raised his hand to strike Jimmy again with the shillelagh, he let out a pained yell. Because Jimmy wasn't down and out just yet. That little bastard had a trick up his sleeve. And it hurt like hell.
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#9

Post by Little Boy† »

The Shillelagh struck like lightening, and cracked like thunder up his arm. Jimmy let out a yell, the bolt skittering from his loose hand, falling almost comically to the floor. He was stumbling sideways, his entire dynamic changing. He needed to move fast, he needed to get out before-

Before the pistol collided with his face.

Jimmy had given up counting his bruises. But this one held a special place in his heart. It'd been a long time since he'd been hit this hard- Alex was even stronger then Teo. In his weakened state, Jimmy's tiny frame seemed to absorb the blow, rather then resist it. His nose bent in at an awkward angle, the blow reverberating down his spine, in his mouth. He was bleeding again, his mouth and face a stinging blur of numb flesh and warm blood.

He went to pull away-

Alex slammed the butt of the pistol back into his mouth. Jimmy's head snapped back and he heard a sickening crunch, realizing that his front teeth had just given way. Jimmy let out a high pitched whimper as his head went back and to the side, his mouth opening, blood gushing out to spatter against the floor with a heavy thud.

He wanted it to stop. Everything in him was burning, everything was chaos and agony. But Jimmy wasn't listening to his body anymore. He'd stopped paying attention long ago. He staggered and swayed.

But somehow, Jimmy managed to turn back toward Alex. Just in time for the next swing of the gun.

This time, there was no question. Jimmy crumpled to the floor, his battered hands going up instinctively to his face. Blood was shooting from his nose and his mouth, filling his hands and spilling out. Alex was above him somewhere- shouting and cursing.

Uh oh

The pistol came down again, striking him in the side of the head. Jimmy didn't protest- he spilled out on the floor, drums ringing through his brain. His hand was still shaking from the Shillelagh, and his other was freshly bleeding. With his remaining sanity Jimmy flipped onto his back, keeping his bloody face to the floor.

It was incredible. He'd stuck Alex. He'd stuck him like a pig. But he was still standing. Somehow, Alex hadn't even felt the bolt through his leg.

It's not fair-

Jimmy forced his eyes open, staring into his blood soaked palms. His legs were up instinctively, to protect his guts. There was a horrific unending ringing- and worse yet, he felt that familiar numb sensation, spreading through his body.

He was going to faint. That would be the end of it. If he fainted, Alex would kill him, piss on his corpse. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let that happen.

Jimmy squirmed on the floor, looking up towards his opponent... and the crossbow bolt stuck in his leg.

He didn't think. It was a near instant reaction. His mouth hanging open, in a hungry gaze he forced himself up with all his strength, grabbing on to the protruding arrow.

He wrenched it down. Alex screamed. The blow didn't fall. With blood covered hands, Jimmy jerked the arrow to the left and right, widening the cut, watching blood spurt and darken Alex's pant leg. Jimmy could feel bile at the back of his throat, but he pushed it deeper, relenting only as Alex's hands reached down, trying to yank him free.

Jimmy brought his feet down, kicking and rolling across the floor. The world tumbled before his eyes, a mess of colors and agony. Even when he stopped the world refused to sit still.

Move! Fucking move!

Jimmy staggered to his knees, coughing and spitting strings of blood. He was drenched in sweat, his hands stained with the blood of them both.

"How's that Alex?" He sputtered. Hesitantly he reached up into his mouth, feeling his wounds. Of his front teeth, two were gone completely. Another hung by a strand- he grabbed it, ripping it lose and tossing it aside, leaving it skittering across the blood soaked wooden floor.

Starting things off nicely, 'aintcha?

Jimmy's eyes swung across the destroyed room, resting upon his dropped crossbow. Alex was preoccupied- but Jimmy couldn't tell for how long. Alex was a tenacious motherfucker- his injury was bad but would it put him down? He couldn't count on anything. He'd lasted through worse- Alex needed more to kill him.

You need to give him MORE.

That wasn't a problem. He'd give Alex everything he needed.

Jimmy staggered up, blinking back oblivion. With growing speed, he began to limp toward the crossbow, every jolting step sending more pain blasting through him. The journey was exhausting. Collapsing to the floor once more, he began fumbling with wet and wounded hands, reloading a new bolt. Behind him Alex was moving, heading his way. His hands slipped, growing numb. The whack from the Shillelagh had left a giant bruise on his arm, and had probably shattered something as well. But broken bones weren't of any concern, not in the heat of battle. Tears dotted his face, but it was more distraction then anything else.

Too slow, you're too slow-

The bolt clicked and Jimmy growled, twisting around, aiming back towards Alex. His mouth was a bloody mess, but his words were still distinguishable.

"Three! I got three Alex! You get to be number four!"
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Dr. Nic†
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#10

Post by Dr. Nic† »

That sneaky little fuck.

Alex yelled, and cursed, and downright screamed. Pain, and anger, and seething fucking rage as Jimmy took it upon himself to tear up Alex's leg. He tried to tear that little fuck away from his leg but it hurt, it hurt so fucking much. Everything was being torn, ripped left and right, and Alex could swear that little bastard was smiling! But Alex tore at Jimmy's hands, ripped them away and Jimmy scrambled to his feet as fast as he could. He ran away, crawled into the corner with his tail between his legs, while Alex fell to his knee with a pained gasp and a dull thud.

That little fuck.

That piece of shit.

Look at what he did!

Alex tried to grab the bolt, tried to tear the damn thing out of his leg and be rid of the pain. But touching it just made the pain worse. Every time he tried to touch it, every time his leg so much as twitched, it sent another jolt of pain up through Alex's entire fucking body. That little fuck was going to pay. That son of a bitch was going to burn for this. He took a deep breath, held it, and grabbed on tight to the bolt. He held in the scream as he twisted the bolt. As he freed the point from his torn muscles. As he freed the metal tip from what felt like his god damn bone. He twisted, and pulled, and tore that bloody bolt from his leg. And he looked at the damage.

Hamburger.

Alex was going to look like hamburger when he got out of this. Scars everywhere. Scars all up and down his arms, his legs, on his face, his chest, his back. He was sure he was going to look like the kid from Mask and Quasimodo had a child. But he could live through this.

Fuck.

Fucking Jimmy.

Fucking game.

Fucking wounds.

Alex needed room. He needed time. He needed to put some distance between himself and that sneaky little son of a bitch. He needed to get out of that damn room and keep Jimmy as far away as possible. And he needed to do it fast. He could hear Jimmy behind him. He could hear that sneaky cunt moving. Sneaking. Doing something.

He glanced back.

Son of a bitch.

Alex hauled himself up on to his feet. On to his foot. He couldn't put any pressure on the one leg, it hurt too fucking much, but he could still hobble. He could still limp his way to wherever he needed to go. And he needed to go somewhere fast. He grabbed at the railing and tried to move as fast as he could up the stairs. One painful step at a time. One very fucking painful step at a time. He held his breath. His fingertips felt numb. His hands felt cold. He could barely keep his grip on the railing.

That little bastard was going to pay. That little bastard was going to hurt for that. Alex would take it out in his fucking flesh!

Another painful step.

Another.

Faster.

Get up.

Get up!

"Move it, boy. Walk it off. Play through it. Pussy."

He had to get up. He had to climb those steps, and get up to the top. He was going to rule the world from the top of his tower. And no one is going to stand in his fucking way. No one. Sure as hell not Jimmy fucking Brennan. He was shouting now. Saying something about three. Three what? Kills? Ha. And Jimmy thought he was going to make Alex number four? Ha. Ha. Ha.

"Fuck you, Jimmy."

Alex called down to Jimmy from the stairs. He was up higher than that little fuck now.

"I have five, you pussy! I cut out Will's neck! You think I gave two shits about the rest of you after that?!"

Alex swung his arm over the railing, and fired off three rounds down at Jimmy. Down at that little fuck. Even if he didn't hit the little bastard in the head or balls, he could at least buy himself some time. But boy, did he wish at least one fucking bullet would blow off that smug bastards nuts. And because Jimmy felt the need to share, Alex decided to share some of his own exploits.

"I choked the life out of that girl! I shot the other in the gut and left her to bleed out! I stuck that cunt real good, and put a couple new holes into the bitch on the beach! You think you'll matter?"

And he spat down at Jimmy before resuming his slow, painful climb.

Another painful step.
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Little Boy†
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#11

Post by Little Boy† »

Alex wasn't heading his way after all, but Jimmy didn't have time for relief. If Alex was on the move towards the steps, that meant he could still function. And he couldn't allow that to continue. With a grunt Jimmy hefted his weapon, following his bloodied foe toward the stairs. Every step was a dizzy roller-coaster, the threat of failure stung strong in his mind. But he held on, careening toward the steps as Alex's bloody frame disappeared upstairs, out of sight.

Jimmy laughed, dark red blood spilling from his mouth. He looked down in surprise, his blurry eyes struggling to focus. He would have laughed, but Alex was shouting, breaking his thoughts. Giving his head a shake, Jimmy continued toward the stairs, his finger closing around the trigger of the crossbow.

"Come off it-," Jimmy gasped, collapsing upon the steps. His vision swam before him, but he pushed up his left hand, forcing himself up the steps. Alex was above. The floor were wet with blood, and a sickening feeling of satisfaction settled in his gut. Jimmy gave a grunt, kicking out his legs and sliding up the steps. Jimmy grunted his face contorted in concentration.

"You spent your time- killing girls? Oh Alex- Alex you, you stupid fuck, don't you know anything? Bitches don't count for shit! You killed little girls? I killed men!"

Jimmy stopped, his breathing heavy. With his right hand he raised up the crossbow, shakily pointing it up the steps.

"You saw Teo outside, right? Ain't- ain't that a masterpiece?"

Jimmy continued his climb, a violent grin slicing its way across his face. He was so close. The steps were winding around, climbing ever higher. Jimmy looked behind him- he could still see the bottom, just ten steps downward. Jimmy let out a huff, and turned back to his task, pushing himself ever forward.

Keep climbing. Keep going. Don't question. Keep going- just keep-

He's not there, where did he go? Where-

Gunfire.

His left hand exploded.

Before the shrapnel had just been bleeding continuously. A steady stream of dark red blood, pain to move, sheer insanity to remove. Now there was nothing. The bullet slammed into his hand, severing his ring and middle finger almost immediately. Beyond that, Jimmy couldn't register what occurred. His vision went momentarily, his senses overloading.

Fear. He was afraid.

He let out a scream, the bullet having severed his only handhold. Jimmy began to tumble back down the steps as two more followed, exploding against the wall and ground, coating him with debris. Jimmy continued to scream even as his journey came to a halt. His eyes widened as he stared down at his mutilated hand, spurting bright red blood..

uh oh

He began to scream at the top of his lungs, his raspy shrill voice echoing through the staircase.

"WHAT'VE YOU DONE?! WHAT'VE YOU DONE!?"

Jimmy blinked back tears of pain, awkward choking sounds emerging from his throat. With his remaining hand he fumbled to prop himself up, collecting his weapon. His heart was pounding a mile a minute. He clutched his wound close to his chest, the blood continuing to gush, spilling down the steps.

"F-f-fuck-"

Ruined. He maimed me. The sunnvabitch maimed me- Stupid! You stupid fuck Jimmy- how could you let this happen?

Jimmy gritted his remaining teeth. He would have time to beat himself up about it later, if he could last until then. His breathing was fast and shallow. He needed to remain in control. He needed to finish Alex, and wrap his wound before he bled out all over the lighthouse stairs.

"You still there Alex?" He shouted, his words shaky. "You sunnva bitch! Don't you bleed out on me you big piece of meat!"

You're gonna pay. Oh, I am going to hurt you. I am going to fucking HURT you for this really good...

Jimmy licked his lips. Letting out a grunt he slid his way up the wall, cradling his left hand to his chest. His crossbow wavered in front of him. A part of him wanted to rush up the steps, take Alex while he had the element of surprise. But his hand told him better. He realized he was crying profusely now, tears rolling down his face. His lip was quivering.

It just made him angrier. He was against the wall, he was back on the beach. He was hiding from everyone and everything, and he felt weaker for it.

"How- how many ways can you can split a big piece of fucking meat," He spat out, sniffling, his finger shaking over the crossbow trigger. "You bastard. Don't you die on me. I'll kill you. I killed J.J, don't you know? He was stronger then you. Phillip too. I wrecked 'em. I kill giants and I kill bastards. You a lil' of both, you hear me?"

His words were tough, but was it enough? Alex had hurt him, in a very special way. Through his bloodthirsty haze, fear had returned.

Come on you motherfucker. Do something stupid. Do something stupid, and catch this bolt, please-

He was afraid. What he was doing was suicide. But he couldn't leave. He couldn't let Alex win.

He was going to win the game. Winners didn't run.

I'd rather die then run. The only way out, was up.

"Rosa," He began to mutter, quickly between gasps. Slowly Jimmy began to inch his way back up the steps, his heart beating in tune with his words, calming him, if only for a moment.

"Rosa. Rosa, Rosa..."
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Dr. Nic†
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#12

Post by Dr. Nic† »

Screaming filled the building. Long, loud, echoing screaming. So much screaming. Rosa screamed like that. Alex hit Jimmy. He hit that little fuck! He actually hit the smug little bastard! After all his shouting, all his fucking yelling, he hit that little fuck and made his ass hurt. And hurt a lot, it sounded. That whiny little bitch was screaming and crying and Alex could hear it oh so clearly. No matter how bad his leg hurt, or how much he was bleeding, Alex felt good. He felt good about shooting that loud mouthed son of a bitch. He felt good shooting that noisy little bastard. It felt so damn good to make Jimmy hurt. It was easy. It was so damn easy to make that pussy hurt.

"I am no giant! I am no bastard! I am a monster, you hear me!? And no one kills the fucking monster! He always comes back! Always comes back!"

Alex was shouting, screaming down at Jimmy. But he got reckless. He got careless. And he took that last step badly. He put all his weight on his hamburger leg, and the pain of it shot up through his bones. He fell, and he bled, and he realized just how badly he was bleeding. He was leaving a dark red trail going all the way up the stairs. His leg was absolutely soaked. His hands were cold. He couldn't feel his feet. His fingers were numb and white. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. And it was only getting worse. He needed to end this.

"Fuck this. I'm never dying. I'm the one surviving this bullshit."

Alex hauled himself up, climbing back up to his feet, steadying himself with the railing. It was hard to stand, harder still to hold himself up. He could barely feel the railing, let along keep a good grip on it. The blood wasn't exactly doing anything to help. But Alex heard something while he was climbing to his feet.

He heard Jimmy again. But he wasn't screaming. No, no, no. He was repeating something. Over and over again, it echoed up the stairs. One name, repeated over and over again.

One name.

One very special name.

Alex grinned. Everything hurt, but he grinned.

"Rosa?"

He called down to Jimmy, as loud as he could.

"Rosa? That cunt screamed Jimmy. She screamed long, and hard. She screamed more for me than for any other guy. Think about that, Jimmy. She screamed more for me than she ever would have for you, you fucking limp dick motherfucker. You want her? Go find her."

And he took a step back up the stairs. Slowly, and painfully, but he was resuming his climb. He didn't know where Jimmy was. He couldn't hear that fucker walking.

"Go find her, Jimmy, and give her a kiss. She's buried out there. In front of the grocery store in town."

And Alex grinned.

"Look for the graves marked with a bullet. Their names are written."

Another painful step. Another bloody footprint. Alex left his mark on the world, and on Jimmy's fragile mind.

"Go look for her. I stuck her good. She'll remember me. Oh, yes. She'll remember me."
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Little Boy†
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#13

Post by Little Boy† »

I stuck her good.

Jimmy's eyes went wide. His lips parted slightly. He felt heavy. His hand fell to his side.

I stuck her good.

Jimmy's head began to sink down. Water trickled down onto the blood drenched steps. He wavered.

I stuck her good.

He was falling backwards, butterflies in his stomach. He was gasping for breath, his hand was screaming at him-

He was going to fall backwards. He was going to break his neck on the stairs, and fall. He was going to sleep. He was going to rest. He was going backwards, and he felt heavy inside.

Exposed, like the coward he was. His lip trembled and he rocked back on his heels.

He leaned back farther still.

No one here gets out alive.

He could feel Rosa right next to him. Through the haze she was telling him he was special, different. That he was worth ten of any other man, and she'd been just waiting for someone like him. A true man to come along, sweep her off her feet. Knights needed to protect something, after all. Vikings and Cowboys and every macho man in the movie, the kind of bad boy the girls would faun over, the kind who'd get the girl and keep them safe for eternity. Unstoppable. Unbeatable. The winner, for once in his life, a winner. He'd shed and bled blood, black as his thoughts and he loved every second of it, and despised his every thought.

He'd hurt so many people. He'd killed so many people.

But that was because he was a hero. Heroes won the game, heroes got the girl and got the respect. Heroes weren't walking home in the cold, scared of the future. Heroes weren't scared to speak the truth, keep the girl safe.

He was scared to say her name. She'd run because of him. Because he was horrific, because he was a fucking monster, a psychopathic fucking child. She'd smiled and said words she didn't mean. She was scared of him and she'd ran, right to Alex.

He wasn't a hero. He was phony, pretending he was something better, something worth some measure of respect or dignity.

Open your veins Jimmy.

His heart pounded inside him, bile building in his throat. He'd killed them, and he'd loved every second of it. He'd laughed and hurt them, and all the while he'd faked himself into believing it was justice. No, there was a reason he was at the bottom. There was a reason for everything.

Everyone likes the underdog. Everyone cheers for the little guy, nothing to go on but his guts. Ain't that me? Why ain't that me?

I just wanted to go home. I just wanted them to like me.

I just wanted-


What he wanted didn't matter. The shock was like being submerged in ice cold water. His senses dull, his movement sluggish. Rosa had run from him. Rosa had lied to him. He'd never been loved. He'd never be loved.

Why had he expected any different? Why had he expected anything less? He was an ignorant monster. He'd wanted to kill them. He had wished for this to happen. He'd prayed for one chance, just to prove himself.

They won't make fun of me now. They'll never make fun of me again. They'll curse me and they'll hate me, just like I deserve.

Jimmy fell backwards, his eyes open, a name dying on his lips.


---


From far away came a scream, ripping through his body, his trembling chest, his guts and head. Desperately he reached out with his bloodied left hand, gripping at the rail. Jimmy fell backwards, smacking off the rails, panting in confusion, waves of nausea rolling through him. The scream didn't stop. It was Rosa. It was Rosa- screaming in pain. Screaming in pain and fear, screaming for help that would never come.

She was just a girl. She was just a scared girl, and he'd loved her.

I stuck her good. She'll remember me.

She had. She was screaming at Alex, in terror and fear, and-

Anger. So much anger. Blind fury, outrage. She'd been raped. Shot in the head. She'd died cold and alone, crying in pain and fucking outrage at the injustice.

Jimmy looked toward the crossbow in his hand. He began to tremble, struggling to remain standing.

Justice. She was raped. Alex hurt her. He hurt the girl. He beat the girl. He is nothing. He is fucking nothing. You want to kill someone? No. You want something more. Okay. That is okay Jimmy.

Everything is going to be just fine.


Jimmy gripped the rail, needles shooting through his ruined hand. He began to scream then, not a high shrill scream- but deep, from deep within his chest. Their voices began to meld together, an ungodly chaotic noise, burning through his chest.

He raped her. He raped her. He hurt her and fucked her and he made her cry- He made her nothing, he beat her down and he made her nothing, when she gave you everything. You worthless shit. You'd die? You'd die?

You haven't hurt him yet. Not nearly enough.


Jimmy screamed, his eyes filled with pure rage, blood frothing and dripping from his battered mouth. He took a step. Then another. Faster and faster, screaming with everything he had, screaming along with every single bit of self hatred within him. Within him, something gave way. Memories of the mall flooded back to him. Digging through the dirt, looking for the girl who'd ran from him. The girl who'd hated him, and who'd died for it.

Worthless. Worthless. You'd let him live? You'd let him live?

Justice. She deserved better then you. She deserved a hero. She deserves justice. You can't be a hero. You can't be worth anything. But you can be justice. You can stay true to her. You can make him pay.

You can make him pay.

Make him pay.

He stuck her. Now make him PAY.


Jimmy charged up the steps, with everything he had. His veins stuck from his mouth, his face beet red in blind directionless fury. He wasn't just going to kill him. He was going to do so much worse. He was a warrior. He was a fucking psychopath and he was going to prove it.
"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!

YOU STUCK HER, I'LL STICK YOU!"
Twisting around the staircase, Jimmy saw him. His legs were pumping, threatening to give out, blood spilling from his cuts and wounds. Jimmy raised the crossbow up, never stopping, never blinking. His finger closed around the trigger, as Alex's chest came in view. The crossbow thrummed. The bolt sailed through the air. Jimmy didn't stop running. In a blind rage Jimmy dove forwards, his hands clawing for Alex's neck, his heart screaming along with him.
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Dr. Nic†
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#14

Post by Dr. Nic† »

Alex felt alone on the stairwell. He felt alone, and he was happy about that. He couldn't hear Jimmy. He expected Jimmy to be dead down on the stairs somewhere. He hoped Jimmy was dead. He wanted the next time he saw that whiny little fuck to be when he dragged his lifeless corpse outside and pitched it off a cliff somewhere. He wanted to see that scrawny bastard lying in a pool of his own blood and piss and finally be rid of him. He would have liked that. He wanted Jimmy dead.

He hoped Jimmy was dead.

But Jimmy wasn't dead.

Jimmy was pissed.

Alex was hauling himself up the stairs. Pulling himself up each and every step with the railing, dreading having to put any weight on his leg. He was tired, and cold, and wanted this all to just be over. To just finally fucking end. He wanted all that weight to finally be off his shoulders. He didn't want to keep carrying it. He didn't want to keep thinking back on them. Every one of their faces. The way they looked at him. The way they accused him. Knowing that they were just waiting for him. He wanted to be rid of all that and finally get back home.

Alex struggled on the steps. With himself, with his leg, with the pain of it all.

But he did what he had to do. He wasn't going to regret it anymore. He could sit and think back on it all and feel bad about it, or he could keep climbing those fucking stairs and pull himself out of that damn game. But he already made his decision a long time ago. No looking back. Just keep moving forward, one step at a time. One painful fucking step at a time.

Alex kept climbing.

Jimmy started screaming.

Fuck. Fuck. That bastard wasn't dead yet. He wanted him to be dead, he so badly wanted him to be dead. But wanting it didn't make it happen. No, Alex had to make it happen himself. That's it. He had to put an end to this fucking thing once and for all. Jimmy was screaming, and he could hear him climbing the stairs.

He had one good chance at this. Alex held the handgun still. He lost the shillelagh somewhere on the ground floor, but that didn't matter. He still had the handgun, and that's what was important now. That's what he was going to use to finally end that little fuck. That's what he was going to use to finally put an end to Jimmy fucking Brennan.

Alex readied himself as Jimmy screamed.

He turned around as Jimmy shouted.

"Not if I--"

And Alex didn't finish.

Jimmy caught up. He caught Alex. Jimmy finally stuck Alex. And stuck him good.

That hole wasn't supposed to be there.

"You're done now, boy. Give up. Lie down and die. Face your fate, and burn. It's over, boy."

Alex slipped on the step, and fell down on his back. He dropped the gun, and heard it clatter on the steps, and fall farther than he could reach. Jimmy was on him.


Swinging...

Screaming...

Clawing...


Alex could feel Jimmy's hands around his neck. He could feel that little fuck's fingernails raking at his skin. He could feel the little cuts opening, the blood starting to come.

He was so tired. He just wanted it all to fucking end.



But not this time.

Not yet.

He wasn't going to let a whiny little cunt like Jimmy Brennan put an end to this. No, Alex was going out on his own terms and he wasn't going out for a long, long time. The monster never fucking dies. He always comes back. He takes a beating and always gets up. He never fucking dies.

The monster never dies!

Jimmy was clawing, scratching, screaming. Alex searched for something, anything, to push Jimmy back. Anything he could use to get that rabid fuck off of him. And he found it at his side. His hand closed around the grip and he found the trigger. He shoved against Jimmy, pushed with all the strength he could muster. Used his entire fucking body to push Jimmy back.

And pulled the trigger. He didn't aim. He didn't even look where he was shooting.

He just pulled the trigger.


His ears were ringing. His neck was sore. His chest hurt like hell, and his leg was throbbing. But he was alive. And he could just barely make something out... Some noise, outside of the ringing, outside of the pounding in his head.

He could hear Jimmy screaming.

He could see Jimmy screaming.

He found out why when he looked down, and saw the bloody mess that was Jimmy's leg. His foot. Or at least, what was left of it. He nearly blew off that rabid little bastard's foot. He should have felt sick at the sight of it. He should have choked back vomit in his mouth when he saw that bloody mess. But he just grinned. He grinned as wide as he possibly could, and he spat in Jimmy's face.

He had to push.

He had to shove.

He had to keep fighting, or he would burn.

He sat up as best he could, and shoved Jimmy away with his foot. He tried to pull the gun up to blow off Jimmy's bloody fucking face, but it was stuck. The damn thing was caught in the railing. Fuck. Fuck. There had to be something else, something he could hit Jimmy with, something he could shoot him with, something he could...

Stick him.

Stick him good.

Alex let go of the shotgun, and pulled something out from underneath him. He'd landed on it when he fell, but it was still good. It was still in one piece.

Time to finally regift the present Ray gave him.

"I'll stick you too!"

And he thrust the spear as hard as he could at Jimmy. He pushed, and shoved, and twisted the length of wood as hard as he could manage. He wanted Jimmy gone. He wanted Jimmy dead. He wanted to stick that little fuck like he stuck Rosa, and reunite the two of them.

Alex threw everything he had at Jimmy to finally end his miserable fucking life. He beat him, he shot him, he stuck him with the fucking spear. He was ready to throw the backpack at him and see what that did. He grabbed whatever he could find and threw it Jimmy's way. He took whatever he had on hand, and made Jimmy hurt with it.

He grabbed the fucking pokeball, of all things... and smashed it over Jimmy's head.

And he pushed Jimmy down.

"That's it, boy. You're done. He's done. End of the road."


That's it.

That's all he had.

He's done. It's over.

There was nothing left. Just nothing. He couldn't feel his hands. He couldn't feel his legs. He could barely fucking move, but he was finally rid of that screaming, rabid little fuck. Finally. Finally. But he had to keep moving. He had to get to the top. That was his throne. That was where he was going to rule the world from. That was where this damn game was finally going to end.

He tasted blood. He could barely breathe. When he did breathe, he ended up coughing. When he coughed, he tasted blood in his mouth. When he moved, he could feel nothing but pain through his entire body. His leg was torn up, and he couldn't even move it. He had a fucking hole in his chest and a god damn bolt sticking out of him. It took all he had just to turn himself toward the railing. It took more than he had left to spare to pull himself up those last few stairs.

But he was going to get to the top.


Even if he had to crawl.
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Little Boy†
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#15

Post by Little Boy† »

The bolt slammed into Alex's gut, and Jimmy was soon to follow. Punching and kicking, scratching at Alex's throat in a blind fury, the pair toppled backwards, Alex's back slamming against the stairs. The pistol fell from Alex's hands, a shocked expression on his face. Jimmy didn't grin. He just screamed, as loud as he could, his hands going for the boy's neck.

HE RAPED HER! HE HURT HER- HURT HIM! FUCKING HURT HIM!

His blood soaked fingers found Alex's throat, and began to tear. He was weak-, far weaker then he'd had liked to admit. But Alex was already hurt, already on the defensive. His left hand fumbled and slipped, but he began to scratch with his right, his fingers tearing away what skin he could take.

BITE HIS THROAT! TEAR OUT HIS THROAT!

Alex began to fight back, pushing at him, struggling to reach for something, anything to defend himself. Jimmy didn't care. If he kept it up long enough, Alex would be dead. That was all that mattered. His throat was within reach. Jimmy gnashed his teeth, biting at the air, struggling closer-

BOOM.

There was pain and thunder, and blood. Jimmy slipped back, jolted rather, down the steps. His screaming increased in intensity and he tumbled off Alex, his hands reach downward to find his foot- or what little remained of it. Red blood gushed from the wound, pouring down the steps, coating the spiraling stairway. He was bleeding. He was bleeding and he was hurt.

That's right. He still has a shotgun.

A belated realization. His leg was burning, an intense insanity inducing burn, sapping his strength. He growled and breathed heavy, his right hand struggling to find a hold, pull himself back up to Alex. A foot came down, meeting his face. His head jerked away and he tumbled back down a step, his hands flying up to grab the railing, keep him steady.

Bleeding- you're going to bleed out. Kill him. Kill him, you pussy! You need to kill him! You have to kill him!

Jimmy leaned forward, dragging himself up the steps. His cuts had all opened again, it felt as if his skin was tearing off. The stairs were drenched, and most of the blood was his.

Don't quit. Don't quit. Kill him. You need to kill hi-

Jimmy didn't even see it coming. The sword slipped through him like he was butter.

His eyes went wide, his mouth parting ever so slightly, his lungs emptying out. Jimmy froze, his hands fumbling downward to his chest, and the spear jutting out, just right of dead center. His right hand tensed around it, just as Alex pushed it deeper.

Pain blotted out his sight. He wanted to scream, but it felt as if he were drowning. Tears rolled down his face as he blindly fumbled at the weapon, wheezing in panic, trying to- do what? Take it out? Make it stop?

My back. It's through my back- oh God, oh Jesus-

He couldn't move. Alex was in reach, but the pain surrounded him, deadened his joints. He sank back, leaning on the right hand side railing, slowly slipping downwards, into oblivion. Alex was speaking, but he couldn't hear. He was wheezing, struggling to breath, choking on air. He could only imagine the expression on his face. Panic filled his body.

getitout-getitout-

Alex had other plans. With a mighty swing, Alex brought something down onto his forehead, and Jimmy saw stars. A loud crack resonated through the suddenly quiet staircase and Jimmy felt himself falling backwards, not knowing if the noise had been from the weapon or him.

Alex let go, his grip on the weapon leaving.

Jimmy fell, bouncing off the steps, the spear stuck in his guts. After what seemed like an eternity, he tumbled to a stop, coughing and choking, spitting up bile and blood.

He opened his mouth to scream, to shout, to say anything. Only one word escaped his lips.

"Rosa-"

The rest was drowned out by his own blood.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Little Boy. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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